In a dull swiftness we are carried by <br />With bodies left at sway and shaking knees. <br />The wind has ceased, or is a feeble breeze <br />Warm in the sun. The leaves are not yet dry <br />From yesterday's dense rain. All, low and high, <br />A strong green country; but, among its trees, <br />Ruddy and thin with Autumn. After these <br />There is the city still before the sky. <br />Versailles is reached. Pass we the galleries <br />And seek the gardens. A great silence here, <br />Through the long planted alleys, to the long <br />Distance of water. More than tune or song, <br />Silence shall grow to awe within thine eyes, <br />Till thy thought swim with the blue turning sphere.<br /><br />Dante Gabriel Rossetti<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/in-the-train-and-at-versailles/
